les
Burton. Report gives him the character of a perfidious and
unfaithful husband. How then does it look for a young lady, whose
name is now the subject of idle gossip, to indiscreetly hazard her
reputation still more by such intercourse. There could be but one
object in this, which was, doubtless, _revenge_. But, let me ask,
what will it profit you, to add still greater pangs to that already
suffered by one who mourns the loss of her husband's affections?
Know that, through all, she will cling to him, for she loves him
still, and is a devoted wife and mother. Nothing of coldness or
neglect on _his_ part can change _her_ feelings, or turn her from
the path of duty. As a friend and a Christian, the writer of this
would calmly advise you to abandon all efforts either to see or
communicate in any manner with the gentleman, upon any subject
whatever; not even in the presence of a third party, as there is
said to be an official who watches over the interests of a wronged
and heart-broken wife. WATCHER.

"Really, this is assuming a tragical character," said Mrs. Hardyng, to
whom Clemence went at once for advice. "'The plot thickens,' as the
story-books say. Why, child, take courage; you will be a heroine yet,
and I shall be thrown completely in the shade--left disconsolate and
forlorn."

"Don't jest," said Clemence, shuddering. "You can't think, Ulrica, how
all this pains me. I never dreamed of such a result of my efforts, but
rather supposed, if we tried to do 'what their hand found to do,'
patiently, they would be borne out in their undertakings. I am innocent
of premeditated wrong to any one."

"There, don't cry!" said Mrs. Hardyng. "This is only a passing cloud,
and your future will be all the brighter for the shadow which now
threatens to envelop you in its gloomy folds."

"I wish I could think so," said Clemence. She took her hat mechanically
as she said this, and went out, hardly knowing whither to bend her
steps, but feeling stifled, and wanting to be alone.

By-and-by she found herself seated by a new-made grave. A memory of the
pale, patient little face, that used to haunt her footsteps, came to
her, and she thought sadly of the child's unhappy fate.

The daylight faded slowly out of the western heavens; the shades of
evening gathered round. Suddenly, as the girl sat absorbed, a tiny hand
stole int